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Non-Dancer/Non-Finny Valentine Special #6: Meanwhile, back at the Lair Mansion… was made by The Hooded Hood, with significant interference from Dancer on 2/18/2003 at 6:25:14 PM.
Non-Dancer/Non-Finny Valentine Special #6: Meanwhile, back at the Lair Mansion…
Note: This story continues in the vein of previous episodes, and is not for those offended by crude humour and cheap jokes. It’s rated for adults. It takes place at the same time as spiffy’s Dancer/Finny #5. Full credit or blame to Shep for a substantial input to this particular chapter.
***
The scene: ManMan has just arrived to mooch food from the Lair Mansion kitchen, and is surprised to find everybody sitting around in the hallway watching the front door with interest.
ManMan: Why is everybody sitting in the hallway watching the front door with interest?
Nats: Heh. Yesterday Dancer and Yo set Finny and Ziles up on a date. And they haven’t come home yet.
CSFB!: We’re waiting here with the videocam to welcome them back when they get here.
dull thud: And to offer CPR if required.
Trickshot: Or advice on technique
Pegasus: Or post-coital contraception.
.ManMan: Ah. *sits and waits with the rest*.
Sorceress: Does anyone feel this is rather unfair?
Everyone: ……. Nah.
Falcon: Besides, I’m sure this is a matter of national security. Probably.
Chronic: Yeah. Plus, we get to embarrass the hell outta them * twangs Wedding March on Steve *
Pegasus: ManMan, please help yourself to the delicious produce of this exotic fruit basket, sent in tribute by the adoring populace whom we protect.
Trickshot: But don’t take any of the suggestive-lookin’ fruit. We’re saving that fer when Fin and Ziles get back.
Hatman: There might be a perfectly normal reason for them staying out all night together. They might have been attacked by a supervillain.
Goldeneyed: Sure. Horizontal Mambo Man.
Sorceress: This fruit is quite delicious. Who got you to deliver it, Nats?
Nats: I dunno. I just bring the stuff. I don’t check the label. It’s traditional with delivery men.
Pegasus, checking the label: From Dr Mango and the Evil Fruit Produce Company. Aw, that’s sweet.
Hatman: But a little suspicious, don’t you think? Still, they must have know that we’d thoroughly check their gift for poisons and stuff before eating it.
G-Eyed: Er…
Falcon: Er?
G-Eyed: Well, doesn’t Finny usually organise those sort of checks.
Nats: Sure. And when he’s not around, they’re usually done by… er, by Ziles.
dull thud: Oh. Crap.
ManMan: Hey, I can’t be poisoned! I’m not even in the Lair Legion.
Knifey: Yeah, but you’re mooching their food.
dull thud: And that excuse never works for me.
Chronic: I can’t be poisoned. I’m only here to mock the heroes.
Pegasus: Everyone calm down. There is no guarantee that all of you will die from this. Many of you may survive after painful and humiliating stomach-pumping.
Sorceress: You ate the fruit too.
Pegasus: I am immortal, and as such… urp… oh… arg…
Everybody else except dull thud: …urp… oh… arg…
G-Eyed: Poison!
Cressida, the Worm Wonder: ~~No… some kind of… mutagenic chemical…~~
Hatman, into intercom: Al… get in here. We need help!
Al B. Harper: Oh sure. When it’s munching gift fruitbaskets and waiting to humiliate Finny I can stay in the lab out of the way, but as soon as you’ve ingested mutagenic biochemicals it’s OK for me to come up here.
Trickshot: Just do somethin’… I feel really strange… An’ why is my voice getting higher?
Nats: Why are my pants getting loose?
Chronic: Why are my fingernails growing and turning black?
Falcon: Why are my feathers moulting?
Then, with a ripple and a shudder, everybody present but thuddy and Al are transformed into fifteen-year old virgin girls.
Everybody but thuddy and Al: Aaaaaaaagh!!
thuddy, slicking down hair: HEL-lo!
Al, checking his sensor readings: It’s the LL, transformed into teenage girls!
thuddy: But very eligible teenage girls.
Cressida: They’re all only fifteen years old, thuddy
thuddy: Damn! That means I have to wait a year! Unless they’re lying about their ages.
Hatgirl: The age of consent in the US is eighteen, thud
thuddy: ………. Really? Um…
CSFB: It is?
CSFB!: Wow! I have budding pubescent breasts! Cool!
Chronique: Wow! CSFB!’s got budding pubescent breasts! Cool!
Sorceress: Uh-oh. I’m fifteen again! Feel… massive… hormonal… moodswings…
Hatgirl: Control it, honey. * bursts into tears *
Falconne: Agh no! Sudden attraction to non-threatening boy bands…
Nats: Bugger! I’m a fifteen year old virgin girl, and I still have zits!
Trickskirt: Hey, no sweat. What’s the real diff between you being an eighteen year old virgin an’ a fifteen year old one?
GirlGirl: Er, how do we all know we’re virgins, without even checking?
CSFB!: I checked.
G-Eyelashed: Moving quickly on, Al, how can we get out of this?
Pegasus: And quickly. It was bad enough dodging the satyrs and demigods back when I was fifteen the first time.
Hatgirl: I have very confused feelings for Sorceress.
Falconne: And I have an urge to build a dwelling out of twigs and straw on a high, inaccessible place.
GirlGirl: Hey! Why hasn’t dull thud changed? He was scarfing the produce with the rest of us?
Cressida: I think the biomutative substance was engineered to affect only Lair Legion personnel.
dull thud: Ha ha!
GirlGirl: But I’m not in the LL and I changed!
Knifey: Yeah, but that’s because it’s funnier that way. And the fates hate you.
dull thud: Ha ha!
Cressida: But on the other hand, I too changed, and at fifteen years old I’m just coming into my procreation cycle. You don’t want to know what mating an intestinal worm involves, thuddy.
dull thud: Urk!
Falconne: Never mind the sub-human. All I want to know is why did I get the op?
Sorceress: probably because you change IDs so often. Your body’s very susceptible to this kind of thing.
Falconne: Bullshit. This is so unfair. And these tickling feathers are making me giggle.
Chronique: And why me? I’m not even a hero, let alone a Legionnaire!
Steve: * twangs evilly *
Chronique, pouting: That’s it. Now I’m going to use too much black mascara and lipstick.
G-Eyed, shrilly: AL!!!! Do something! Before we give you hickeys.
Al B.: Well, how about we trigger this hologram generator hidden at the bottom of the fruit bowl? * triggers it *
A hologram appears of Dr Mango, a massive Caribbean woman with a turban topped with an outrageous fruit-covered hat.
Dr Mango: Hello dere. If’n you’re seein’ dis den you been eatin’ de fruit and you be de fifteen year old virgins. Good. Well I got de good news for you. Dere is de cure…
GirlGirl: Thank goodness!
Dr Mango: All you gotta be doin’ is to be losin’ de virginity…
Sorceress: What, again?
Hatgirl: Don’t look at me Whitney. I don’t think I can help this time.
Trickskirt: But real hot girl on girl action counts, right?
Dr Mango: So all you gots to do is to get in de family way, and nine months later you be transforming back to your old selves.
Al B: There you are, see? Simple.
Nats: But… I’m not that kind of girl!
Falconne: Don’t worry, Nats, there’s got to be some blind guys out there somewhere.
Chronique: Or brown paper bags.
Flapjack: Hey, can I be of any assistance?
Everybody: NO!!!!!!
Flapjack: Are you girls here to see the Lair Legion? I, er, I think I saw them all in my bedroom.
Hatgirl: Forget it, Flapjack. We are the LL, transformed into fifteen year old virgin girls.
Flapjack: Aw man, and I thought I was awake. I hate rerun dreams.
Chronique: Excuse me. Some of us aren’t the LL, and feel we’ve been unfairly dragged into another juvenile gender-bending adventure that doesn’t belong to us.
Falconne: Damn straight. Er, in a hetrosexual desires kind of definition of straight.
Flapjack: You girls need help. Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me.
Sorceress: Let me be very clear on this. If you don’t go and lock yourself in your closet right now you will not be the shape you woke up this morning. Is that. Very. Clear?
Flapjack, swallowing hard: Er, yes Mistress Sorceress. Um, none of you have any fifteen year old teenage virgin undergarments you need me to take away and wash, do you?
Pegasus: I can still disintegrate you with a cosmic bolt where you stand, you know.
Flapjack: * flees *
GirlGirl: Well that’s one problem solved, but it still leaves us all unfertilised virgin teenagers.
CSFB: Er, well some of us are just technical virgins now.
Hatgirl: * moves away *
Chronique: Somebody do something! I think I have things pierced that I wouldn’t really want to be.
Cressida: ~~Well, I suppose you humans could get thuddy to impregnate you. It’s not like he doesn’t practise enough. And this would be just like that, only with another person.
G-Eyelashed: He is not coming near me!
dull thud: That’s a disgusting idea, Cressie, and I willn’ae do it. Well, not without a few pints of Newcastle Brown Ale down me. After that almost anything looks good.
Chronique: It’s true. I saw him trying to chat up a coatstand.
dull thud Sure, she was kinda skinny, but she had nice legs.
GirlGirl: I definitely have a headache.
Chronique: It doesn’t seem fair that thud gets to stay male. I say we hold him down while I correct the problem.
dull thud: I just remembered… I left the gas on. In Glasgow. Back soon. Bye!. * flees out of the Lair Mansion, right into the arms of the people who kidnap him into #5 *
Nats: I feel so rejected.
Pegasus: It is very clear then that we must all have Al B. Harper impregnate us.
Al B, falling off his chair and getting tangled with the coffee table: Er, what?
CSFB!: Well we need to get impregnated somehow. At least Sorcy can call up De Brown Streak!
Hatgirl: Grrr.
Sorceress: Hmmm…
Dr Mango: Dis plot is brought to you by SHAG, de Secret Hardcore Alien-breeding Group. Have de nice day. * Hologram vanishes, and fruit basket explodes, spraying ballistic fruit across the hallway *
CSFB!: Damn! I needed one of those bananas!
Pegasus: We shall hunt down this Mango woman and wreak bloody vengeance upon her for this perfidy! But first I must go lock myself in the bathroom for three hours.
G-Eyelashed: Okay, we need to get organised. We need to decide what to do.
Sorceress: Perhaps some kind of formal mixer?
GirlGirl: Al, what can you come up with?
Al B, checking his readings: Well, it’s a pretty clever biogenic. I’d go with the formal mixer plan.
Chronique: Can’t you come up with some kind of device to fix this?
Hatgirl, quickly: Not that kind of device, CSFB!
Al B., looking at the ceiling: Nothing comes to mind. Nothing. I swear it. I’m not thinking. At all.
Trickskirt: There’s got to be a way out of this. I mean, apart from the way out of this. Men are pigs.
Suddenly, there’s a swirly visual effect and standing there in all his pink-masked glory is the Lair Legion’s perennial round-robin enemy.
Hatgirl: Wang the Conqueror!
GirlGirl: Or Kink the Conqueror, depending on which story you’re reading.
Falconne: Is he wearing… Brut aftershave? Eew.
Nats: Eew, but… strangely arousing to fifteen-year-old nostrils.
Wang the Conqueror: Greetings, Lair Legion! My reading of the timelines tells me that this is an auspicious time to triumph over the Lair Legion! Indeed, you are helpless to resist me! For see what I have tucked here in my pants!
G-Eyelashed: Eeek!
Sorceress: Uh-oh! Isn’t that…?
Hatgirl: The Pregnancy Gun!
Al B.: Could have been so much worse.
Knifey: Look at the size of that thing. Overcompensating much?
GirlGirl: Shut up, Knifey! Don’t provoke him to premature insemination.
Wang: Teenage virgin Lair Legion… prepare to meet your womb!
To be continued… by some brave writer